Since I Fell For You
by ellie-balloo
Summary: A night in Luigi's leads to a night of erotic fantasy. This is my take on the upcoming line "Sometimes in life we can't help which way we fall." My first attempt at writing an actual sex scene. PLEASE tell me if I got it right.
1. Chapter 1

_Title taken from a song sung by Al Jarreau on the Moonlighting soundtrack. Lyrics can be googled. I've decided to bite the bullet and write a sex scene, but I've tried to avoid smut and instead attempted eroticism. Let me know if I've succeeded! Unfortunately I don't own Alex, Gene or the rest of CID. If I did, they'd be having a lot more fun!_

* * *

Since I Fell For You

The team had been working on a case – a string of jewellery thefts across the city that had culminated in a successful arrest earlier in the day. Unusually, their main suspect had been a woman. Alex had borne the brunt of more than her usual quota of sexist banter and innuendo and was feeling exhausted. CID were celebrating in Luigi's, which was fast becoming a warm, smoky sauna. Luigi had lost the battle with Chris for control of the cassette player and a compilation of New Romantics' hits were coming from the tinny speakers. It was noisy and hot. People were drunk and making wrong choices in various nooks and crannies. Everyone was having a good time. Except Alex. Unhappy with the way the investigation had ended she was brooding alone in the corner.

When Gene found her, she was working her way morosely through the stock of house red. He had arrived a few minutes earlier, his grey eyes automatically scanning the clientele, searching her out. Being unable to see her, he had strolled nonchalantly through the bar, ignoring shouted invitations and offers of drinks, his glances flicking into corners until, finally, he found her. For a moment he remained perfectly still, watching her, noting how alone she seemed, how vulnerable in the shadows of others' enjoyment. And so he'd joined her in her corner, shared her wine and let her talk. In exchange, he could look at her – the way her eyes flashed in the gloom, how white her teeth were, the wet fullness of her lips as she sipped from the glass. She had a theory, and when Alex had a theory she would sell it's worth with everything she had. At the moment, her glass was being waved at Gene as she emphasised certain points of her argument, the wine sloshing up to the rim but never actually spilling over. Gene had settled into a pleasantly warm, alcoholic haze, and found himself fascinated by the swirling liquid, watching it intently and toying with the idea of leaning across the table and kissing her to shut her up.

"You're not even listening!"

"I am." Head snapping up, his eyes left the wine glass to focus on his DI.

"Well, what do you think then?"

"About what?"

Alex narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "About my theory."

Flashing a fleeting smile in her direction before finishing the last of his wine, Gene signalled Luigi for another bottle. "I disagree."

Alex glared at him and threw back the remainder of her own wine, banging the empty glass onto the table. "Which particular part of my theory do you disagree with?" Her voice was icy in the warm room.

"All of it."

"You weren't even listening!"

Alex could feel her blood begin to boil, heart thumping in her chest as she faced his smug, superior face. He was so bloody irritating. She had never in her life met a man who could infuriate her as much as this man did. The raising of an eyebrow, the twitch of a smirk, and her heart would begin to hammer with rage, her pupils dilate as adrenalin flooded her system preparing her for fight or flight. So far, flight hadn't come into it. All she wanted to do was grab him and…….what?

"It's all bollocks Bolly. And do you know how I know without having to listen to it?" He looked directly at her, a satisfied smile playing around his mouth as he waited for a response. God, he loved winding this woman up.

"Oh, do enlighten me DCI Hunt," the sarcasm dripping from every syllable. "You know how utterly fascinating I find your opinions." Sliding her elbows across the table, she rested her chin on her hands, gazing at him with mock adoration. Gene mirrored her actions until they were nose-to-nose, eye-to-eye.

"The reason I know it's all bollocks, DI Drake, is because if it comes from you, it'll be something to do with psychiatry, women's intuition or voodoo. And all of that, DI Drake," his eyes remained locked with hers as he snatched the bottle from an anxiously hovering Luigi. "- is bollocks."


	2. Chapter 2

Incandescent rage made Alex speechless. She was literally lost for words. Gene leant casually back in his chair and poured himself a glass before offering her the bottle with a smile. It was the smile that finished her. Jumping to her feet, slamming both hands down onto the table, Alex loomed over her boss, forcing him to tip his head in order to meet her glare. She hissed through gritted teeth, "You misogynistic, narcissistic, egotistical… wanker!" Spinning on her heels she stalked away, with steam practically billowing from her ears. Watching her go, Gene raised his glass in a silent toast and took a satisfied sip. Job well done.

* * *

Half an hour later and the place was even busier. Alex had decided to prop up the bar and Gene had joined his colleagues. The banter flew between the drunken officers, along with the occasional bread stick, but Gene Hunt sat quietly at the head of the table, his gaze focused on his DI. Plumes of blue cigarette smoke snaked around him and apart from the occasional taste of wine, Gene was perfectly still, his eyes hooded, giving nothing away. Although he had placed himself some distance from Alex, he was hyper-aware of her. Wisps of soft dark hair brushed the curve of her shoulder, left bare where her red, cotton sweater had slipped down a little. Dark jeans hugged the lines of her hips and backside as she fidgeted slightly on the hard bar stool. Although her back was turned to him, Gene knew she was more sober than her posture suggested, slumped as she was on the bar, eyes level with the rim of her glass. He wondered if perhaps he had gone too far.

* * *

Alex knew her theory was sound. For god's sake, it was bloody obvious. The jewellery thief – Karen Edwards, she was no professional blagger, just a woman terrorised by her psychotic boyfriend. You didn't need to be a psychiatrist, shit – _psychologist_! to see he was pulling her strings. He had manipulated Karen into a position where she was isolated from family and friends; he controlled all aspects of her life – what she wore, where she went, even what she ate. Alex had spent time tailing the couple and seen the way their relationship functioned, the way he put his hands on her – a push disguised as a guiding hand, forceful grip masquerading as a gentle squeeze. On a busy street he would press the slight woman against a dirty wall, pushing his tongue into her mouth, hands inside her blouse – possession and power on display. Alex recognised abuse when she saw it and found it abhorrent. Hunt must be blind: blind and stupid not to see who was really responsible for the crimes. It was the boyfriend - Leon, and he deserved to be punished.

* * *

Gene had decided he was going to apologise. Well, buy her a drink and tell her a dirty joke – surely that constituted an apology? "Aye aye, the boss's pulled!" Chris's gleeful tone yanked Hunt from his pondering, snapping his attention back on Alex, who was now upright on her stool, chatting animatedly with an attractive, young man in a red tie. As she leant into him with a flirtatious smile, placing a hand on his arm, Gene's eyes narrowed. Where the bloody hell had _he _come from? "Who DI Drake chooses to talk to is none of your concern DC Skelton." Hunt spoke quietly and calmly without even glancing at the younger officer. Chris gulped nervously, recognising the sign of an angry Guv, and wisely scurried away to find Shaz. Gene Hunt remained where he was, watching.


	3. Chapter 3

Alex Drake was having fun. Flirting with a handsome man who so obviously fancied her was a very enjoyable, and, at this point in time, quite a novel, experience. What made it even better was the fact that Gene Hunt was there to witness it. Alex didn't need to see him to know he was watching - she could feel his eyes on her. What was this guy's name again, he had told her but her attention had been elsewhere…. Tristan! That was it! How eighties! Deciding to put on a good show for Gene, serve him right, she place her hand on Tristan's thigh and leant in to whisper in his ear. He was in advertising, apparently, and Alex was entertaining herself by planting the seeds of her own childhood TV memories as ideas for campaigns. Tristan moved closer, brushing a stray hair from her face and smiling seductively. Alex suppressed the bubble of a giggle; he was a bit of a prat really. Accepting his offer of a drink, she fluttered her eyelashes and fought the urge to turn and look at Gene. She told herself she simply wanted to see how pissed off he looked, but in reality Alex wanted to check he was there, check he cared enough to be jealous. Flashing a warm smile at Tristan, she sipped her drink and attempted to focus on what he was saying.

* * *

Gene was seething. To all outward appearances he was calmly enjoying a drink, but inside he was fighting an ever-increasing urge to simply march over to the bar and punch that _prat_ in the face. Then he'd kiss Alex until she couldn't remember her own name. Serve her right. He promised himself if the prat touched her one more time, just one more, he'd do it. As Gene continued to watch through narrowed eyes, the prat leaned towards Alex and whispered something to her before gripping the back of her head and locking his mouth over hers. He grabbed at her breast as Alex struggled to escape the forced embrace before, suddenly, she was free. Tristan was lying on his back with Gene Hunt's boot placed squarely on his chest. The rest of Luigi's was silent as Hunt stared steadily at the man on the floor, Alex standing at his shoulder, one hand resting gently on his arm. "Oh dear. You appear to have taken a tumble." All eyes were on the drama playing out in the smoky bar. Gene continued in a brittle, friendly tone. "Allow me to help you up." Bending down, he gripped Tristan's bottom lip and pulled until the terrified man was back on his feet. Leaning so close their noses touched, Gene growled softly, "Now sunshine, I suggest you leave this bar, perhaps this city, before I rip these lips off your face and serve them up on one of Luigi's pizzas." Squeezing harder, until Tristan's eyes began to goggle, he continued. "Understand?" A slight nod in reply. "Good." Abruptly letting go of the man's face, Gene turned his back on him. "Buy you a drink Bolls?" Alex watched Tristan as he scuttled up the stairs, clutching his trench coat and filofax to his chest. She smiled at Gene. "Yes please."


	4. Chapter 4

Alex Drake and Gene Hunt were back at their familiar table for two. Alex was still attempting to convince her boss to act on her suspicions; well, to act on the _facts_ as far as she was concerned.

"You can't just sit on the fence about this Guv."

"Yes I can." Gene smiled serenely at her. "I can balance quite nicely on the fence. There's a lovely view from up there."

"Well," Alex replied, curtly. "Maybe somebody should come along and give you a shove, see which way you fall." Drumming her fingers on the slightly sticky table, Alex looked around at the rest of CID drinking, smoking, laughing. Chris and Shaz were sitting close together, holding hands under the table and giggling. Ray seemed to be having a drinking competition with a couple of older colleagues, casting the occasional disdainful look towards the courting couple. Sighing, Alex turned back to Hunt. "You're not going to change your mind, are you." More a statement than a question.

"No. Now shut up about Leon the loon and talk about something else." He paused to think, then grinned. "Like what you got up to at that posh school of yours. At night. In the dorm…." He waited expectantly. Finally accepting defeat, and deciding to enjoy the rest of her evening, Alex smiled and leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. "Well," she began. Gene's face lit up. "There was this one night," she continued, "when I wanted to practise French kissing..."

"Guv?" Viv appeared at their table, fresh from his shift. Gene kept his eyes locked on Alex.

"Go away."

Alex smirked and turned to the officer waiting patiently to be heard. Sighing, Gene also turned with a sour expression on his face. "This had better be bloody good, Viv, because I was just about to hear something that could keep me entertained every night from now till 1999."

"I just thought you'd like to know Guv – the tip off you had about that Leon guy? It panned out. Uniform went round and found half a kilo of coke hidden in his cistern, just like you said, along with some diamonds and a couple of rather nice bracelets. Looks like he'll be going down for a good, long stretch." Viv wandered off to the bar and Gene turned back to Alex, face impassive.

"Now, where were we?"

"Cocaine? Diamonds? Bracelets? Aren't they the contents of your filing cabinet?"

Gene huffed in frustration. "Night time? Dormitory? French kissing?"

"You stitched him up!"

"Yes I did. Get on with the story!"

"I thought you were sitting on the fence?" Alex was confused.

Gene gave in, realising his fantasy fodder had slipped from his grasp.

"I was Bolls. But, a couple of years ago some mouthy tart came along and gave me a right hard shove and knocked me off."

"Seems to me you would have had a choice as to which way you fell?"

"Sometimes in life you can't help which way you fall." Gene gazed steadily at Alex. "_Please _tell me about the French kissing."

Smiling seductively, Alex leant towards him once more and whispered, "If you come upstairs I'll give you a demonstration."


	5. Chapter 5

Gene sat alone nursing his empty glass, watching the minute hand move excruciatingly slowly around the ornate clock above the bar. Alex had left ten minutes earlier, with a dangerous smile and a wiggle in her walk. Bloody hell. Bloody…Hell. Loosening his tie and undoing the next button on his shirt, Gene shifted uncomfortably in his seat and continued to focus on the time rather than allowing his mind to slip back to the woman waiting for him upstairs. Mentally mapping out her flat, he realised the bedroom was directly above his head. She was probably less than ten feet away from him. Was she naked? Shit. Stop. Watch the clock. She'd said fifteen minutes. Five more to go. He glanced around the room. Everyone was occupied. No one was paying him any attention. Good. He stroked his sideburns absently. Two more minutes. Suddenly his sensed prickled. Someone was watching him.

* * *

In the corner, behind the bar, Luigi polished glasses and continued to observe Signor Hunt. The Signorina had left a few minutes ago and since then Luigi had been watching DCI Hunt, waiting. Would it be tonight he would go to her? Would he finally act on his feelings? He sighed. Such a waste. All those months they could have been making each other happy, but chose to make each other miserable instead. He would never understand the English. Turning to place the shiny glass carefully on the shelf, Luigi shook his head sorrowfully. What was more important than love? His gaze returned to the corner table for two. It was empty. Smiling, he hummed a tune to himself and picked up another glass.


	6. Chapter 6

Cautiously opening the door to Alex's flat, Gene Hunt stepped inside. "Bolls?"

"In here. Lock the door, please." Her voice was coming from the lounge. Gene was not entirely sure whether to be relieved it wasn't the bedroom, or disappointed. In the short time it took to make his way from the front door to where Alex was waiting, Gene managed to convince himself she'd been joking – that it was all in his head. Stepping into the dimly lit room he realised he was wrong.

Alex Drake was sitting on the sofa, a picture of demure innocence, hair scraped back into a stubby ponytail, wearing no make-up, with her hands resting neatly in her lap. The short, grey skirt she wore had ridden up a little to reveal the tops of her thick black thigh-high socks. Gene remained where he was, taking it all in – her crisp white shirt barely stretched across her breasts and he could see she was bra-less. He gulped. Did that mean no knickers too? Alex continued to avert her gaze, playing the part of an embarrassed teenager in the headmaster's office.

"I thought my…" she paused, as if searching for the correct word, "…'demonstration' would be more effective if I dressed the part." Raising her eyes, she looked directly at her boss still standing in the doorway. She continued. "Unfortunately I don't have my school tie and blazer, so this will have to do." Shrugging, Alex patted the cushion next to her. "Aren't you going to sit down?" Unable to take his eyes off her, Gene negotiated the sofa and sat beside her. Once he was seated, Alex went on. "Where were we? Ah yes! French kissing!" Gene was mesmerised. Who was this woman? Alex slid a little closer and turned towards him, causing her skirt to slip a little higher and her shirt to gape a little wider. Placing a hand on his thigh, she pressed her lips to his ear. "I had this crush, you see." Soft breath tickled Gene's senses, the tiny hairs on the back of his neck tingling. Alex brushed the feather-light tip of a finger across them as she continued to whisper. "It was on one of my teachers. Mr Hurst. He was a gruff, stern man, but there was something about him that made my teenage heart pound. I knew what I wanted to do with him, but I was too scared to ask. I thought if I practised first I wouldn't be so nervous." Gene's not so teenage heart began to pound as Alex's hand caressed its way from his thigh to his chest. He was getting very warm in his suit and woollen coat. Very, very warm. Also, he seemed to have lost the power of speech. Thinking was getting a bit tricky too.

Placing her hand gently against his cheek, Alex turned Gene's head until her mouth was mere millimetres from his. Her eyes dipped to his lips. She breathed softly, "I wanted to kiss him," and brushed her mouth against his. Gene remained perfectly still and allowed himself to be seduced.

"I wanted to put my tongue in his mouth and taste him." His lips parted slightly enabling Alex's warm tongue to touch his own briefly.

"I wanted to suck his neck." Gene's head fell back against the sofa as she nuzzled at his throat, pushing his shirt aside to suck softly at the hollow of his collarbone.

"I wanted to press my body tight against his and feel his skin on mine." Sliding a woollen clad leg across his thighs, Alex squirmed in Gene's lap and leant back a little to note the blissful expression on his face. Biting her bottom lip in faux concentration, she slowly unbuttoned first her own, then his, crisp, white shirt, unknotting his tie and draping it around her own neck. Up to this point Gene had remained still and passive, hands resting on the cushions, revelling in Alex's fantasy. Now, he raised his head and looked at her.

"Who did you practice with Alex?"

She smiled a wicked smile.

"Her name was Lucy."

At this, Gene could contain himself no longer and, with a growl, he yanked the shirt from her body and crushed her against his naked chest, pushing his tongue into her mouth and kissing her hungrily. Alex returned his kiss with equal fervour, nerve endings screaming as the rough fabric of his coat scraped against her ultra-sensitive skin. She twisted her fingers tightly into his hair and pushed down hard on him. More, she needed more.


	7. Chapter 7

Gene decided to take control. He needed to slow things down or it would be all over, and he wanted this experience to last as long as possible, as he was pretty sure it wouldn't be repeated. Desperately grasping at his last threads of sanity, he gripped Alex's arms and pushed her up and onto her feet where she stood, panting and dishevelled. Her dark hair had escaped and was curling softly around her face, making her appear younger and more vulnerable. She was naked from the waist, breasts heaving as the muted light tinted her skin with gold. The scrappy grey skirt and the thick socks remained in place, revealing a couple of inches of the plump, pale flesh of her thighs. It took a moment for Alex to focus on Gene, to find her way back from the swamp of sensations in which she was wallowing.

"Why have you stopped?" Her voice was husky with desire.

Gene smiled gently at her. "We need to slow it down a bit Alex, or I won't be responsible for my actions." He was practically sitting on his hands to resist the urge to push her to the floor and lose himself inside of her.

Alex worried her bottom lip in a show of puzzlement. "Well, maybe you should just tell me what to do. After all," she smiled knowingly, "I do need all the practice I can get."

Gene groaned. "What are you doing to me woman? Do you want to finish me off?"

"Yes please!" Alex giggled girlishly and moved closer until their legs were touching. Serious now, she caught his gaze and held it. "Tell me what you want Gene."

Gene paused a moment before replying with a shrug. "I want you Bolls. Just you."

"You've got me. I'm yours." And she leant in and kissed him softly on the mouth.

* * *

Slower now, they explored each other's bodies. Alex undressed her superior officer, kissing each new plane of skin as it was revealed, her breasts brushing softly against him with languorous sways. Gene's grey eyes gleamed in the dusky gloom, watching Alex intently, imprinting each moment on his mind to take out and relive when he was an old, old man drowsing in the sun. When finally he was naked, she stepped back and drank him in, his solid form, the rigid thickness of that most secret part of him. Slowly, slowly she slid her skirt sensuously across her silky skin, proving Gene's initial suspicion.

"Take off the skirt, leave the socks on." His voice grated with need.

"Yes sir." She slipped out of the scrap of grey and awaited his next instruction, clad only in the long sheaths of wool. Gene made her wait as he studied her through narrow eyes, every passing second increasing the desire pulsing thickly through his body. She was beautiful, with an erotic allure only enhanced by the incongruity of the childish socks and her rumpled softness.

"What else did you practise with Lucy?"

In reply, Alex's hand drifted to her breasts, her nails scraping the tight, hard nipples. Her other hand took a lower path until it tangled in the silky curls between her legs. Her lips parted in a gasp and her head fell back as sensations flooded her system.

"Did she touch you like that Alex? Did you touch her?"

Struggling to answer through the fog of pleasure clouding her mind, Alex dragged her gaze back to his. "Yes. She touched me. She taught me how to touch her, to make her scream. We were sixteen."

That was Gene's undoing. Pushing her to the floor he buried himself inside her with one firm thrust. Alex whimpered beneath him, wrapping her legs around his waist, the coarse wool rubbing against his skin. As he began to move within her, Alex matched his every stroke, nails grasping for purchase on his slippery skin. Gene raised his head, gaze drawn first to where their bodies joined, then back to the face of the woman writhing below him. He twisted his hands into Alex's hair, increasing the pace and intensity of his thrusts, watching her expressions of fervour as he angled himself to best pound that most sensitive part of her. A suffuse, rosy glow began to colour her body as she increased the speed and strength of her own movements, clasping her legs ever tighter to gain more contact with each pulsing beat. Finally, she stilled, body arched in convulsive ecstasy, screaming his name. Gene gave two more thrusts, the violent intensity of them pushing Alex across the ridged carpet scraping the skin from her back. Pain and pleasure mingled for them both as they collapsed, sated and satisfied in a tangle of limbs on the floor.


	8. Chapter 8

At some point in the night, Gene lifted Alex from the floor of her lounge and carried her into the bedroom, laying her carefully down before slipping in beside her and enfolding her small form into his protective embrace. They slept, entwined beneath the soft blankets as the bruises and scratches of their violently intense encounter blossomed.

Eventually, as the morning light bled into the hushed stillness of the room, Alex awoke, stretching the stretch of the cat that got the cream. Ow! Small pricks of pain tingled across her body and she smiled to herself, remembering the events of the previous evening. Wow. She wiggled her toes in pleasure and, realising she still wore the black socks, giggled to herself. Turning to her boss lying beside her, sleeping the sleep of a thoroughly satisfied man, she noted the long, red marks on his back and the wine coloured bruises decorating his neck and shoulders where she had sank her teeth into his hot flesh. She was going to enjoy watching him trying to cover those up at the office. Shit – work! How were they going to play that scene? Curiously, instead of being overly concerned, Alex found herself lazily contemplating different scenarios – slipping under his desk whilst the rest of CID looked on, oblivious to her ministrations; meeting in the interview room for a very private interrogation, maybe one that required her being cuffed to the table; halting in a lay-by between jobs to better experience the Quattro's upholstery. Liquid began to pool between her thighs and she edged closer to Hunt. "Guv." She whispered urgently. Gene stirred slightly as Alex began to trail a nail along his spine. "Sir." She nibbled at his ear. "Hunt, wake up. I need to discuss some ideas with you……."

* * *

**OK, that's it. I was trying for eroticism rather than smut. Hope it turned out that way. I'm off for a lie down in a darkened room.....**


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